Thursday, May 3, 2012

DANCING WITH AARON SPELLING (with thanks to Neil Travis)

A while back I made note of the
passing of Neil Travis, award winning film editor (Oscar for Dances with Wolves,
Emmy for Roots). It was through Neil that I met his assistant, the then very
young Geoff Roland who went on to win an Emmy
for his film editing of Cagney &
Lacey as well as a gaggle of other awards as well. Travis was a very nice
man and a terrific film maker and I regret our professional paths only crossed
but once (and as if to add insult to injury it was on a pot-boiler of a TV
movie we did for David Wolper called Men
of the Dragon). Nearly everyone who struggled behind the scenes of that
awful film has now passed on and is undoubtedly grateful (as am I) that hell
has been all filled up for some time now. There are some wonderful production
and post production stories about that terrible film, but I will save them for
another time… and perhaps another book which I will definitely commence when
every copy, everywhere of Cagney &
Lacey… and Me has been sold. Still I did promise at least one Neil Travis
yarn so here it is… excised from the aforementioned tome just hours before
publication… it referred to an incident that took place during the waning hours
of my tenure on Charlie’s Angels:

Aaron Spelling and I didn’t read
the same books, but he was a picture maker with whom I could usually
communicate.

I even learned something about
him and his style of storytelling. It is different from my own, and perhaps it
is a tiny explanation as to why Mr. Spelling became so much richer than I.

I had finished supervising the editing
on the episode of Angels that had
gotten me “fired” by Leonard Goldberg during the previous week and so was screening
it for Aaron alone prior to turning it over to the network as my final obligation
to Spelling/Goldberg Productions. The story was one I had lifted from a classic
Hitchcock thriller, Foreign Correspondent.
It was an atypical episode, in that in the story the Angels were on a holiday
given them by Charlie for an earlier job well done. The picture opened with the
Angels en route by car to a luxury resort of Charlie’s choosing; Jaclyn Smith
was driving and speculating on the possibilities of purchasing a bathing suit
once they arrived. Farrah Fawcett was in the front passenger seat voicing
concern about the condition of the strings on her tennis racquet. Kate Jackson,
“the smart one,” was alone in the rear seat reading a news magazine which
featured, as its “Man of the Year,” an internationally prestigious UN diplomat.
This world famous statesman was scheduled to speak at the very resort they were
going to, and Kate rhapsodized about the possibility of meeting this
Kissinger-like persona (expertly portrayed in our story by Theodore Bikel).

The Angels arrived at the resort
and Jaclyn went off to buy a bathing suit, while Farrah disappeared to get her
racquet restrung, leaving Kate alone in the suite to unpack and to moon over
her thoughts of the very worldly “Man of the Year” on the magazine cover. In a
melancholy moment she wandered onto her balcony and there, across the way, was
that self-same diplomat, surrounded by a coterie of FBI and secret service
types. Dismissing them he turned around tosee the very beautiful Kate Jackson
who reacted with surprise when he saluted her with a friendly wave, but
remembered to wave back. With hardly a rearward glance, the aging would be
lothario began climbing from his balcony to hers.

They engaged in an interesting and slightly flirtatious conversation; Kate was nervous, but it was Bikel who smoked one cigarette after another. Finally he had to return before his security people discovered he was gone. The two agreed to meet again later that evening and he departed by the same multiple balcony route used earlier.

Kate rushed out to the pool area
to tell her pals of this incredible adventure, only to find that they didn’t
believe her. Jaclyn and Farrah couldn’t imagine what the gag was, but they were convinced Kate was putting them on. Then -- just at that moment -- Bikel, surrounded by his security force, passed by the pool are en route to the Hall where he was to give one of his seminars.

Here was Kate’s opportunity to
prove the truth of her story, but to Kate’s chagrin, Bikel didn’t recognize or
acknowledge her in any way. Frustrated, she got a bit aggressive, only to find herself
restrained by one of the security guys asBikel
moved on, oblivious to her. Kate, pissed as Jaclyn and Farrah teased her
unmercifully, stormed off to the suite, barged through the door, and plopped
down on the couch. And then she saw it: Bikel’s distinctive cigarette lighter. Proof
she wasn’t lying. He was there.

At this moment a banner appeared
on screen: INSERT MISSING, it
read.

I leaned over to Spelling in the
darkened projection room:

"Oh, Aaron...at this point we’re going
to pick up a close shot of the lighter on the table. Kate’s hand will come into
the frame and grab it. The camera will tilt up to her face as she ignites the
lighter and says ‘He was here’…or something like that.”

“Good idea,” said Spelling. The
picture continued and so did he: “While you’re at it, get another insert shot
of the lighter being left on the table...y’know, in the earlier scene...with
Bikel when he is talking to Kate.”

The screening went on. Aaron
would make an occasional comment and periodically give a note. The episode was
a good one, and at the end he said so. He was pleased.

“Aaron,” I said, “we’ll
accomplish all your notes right away, of course, but there’s one I’d like to
talk to you about.”

“Yes,” Aaron said, looking at me,
his all but erstwhile employee, as if the flunky he was staring at might never
learn his place.

As meekly as I could, I took
issue with “tipping” the entire moment in the “discovery” scene by calling the
audience’s attention to---and making a point of---Bikel’s leaving of the
lighter. It was a “red-flag,” I said, calling attention to itself. It would
damage the scene between Bikel and Jackson and destroy the suspense of the
following two scenes with Jaclyn and Farrah since the audience would no longer
wonder how Kate could vindicate herself…They would know. I pleaded for a moment
of audience revelation through the actions of a principal. I used several
examples of classic motion picture editing techniques to back my theory. I
talked of good picture making, “motivated” camera moves and cutting concepts.
It was all for naught. Spelling wanted the insert and I would have to give it
to him.That night I was at a party and
was mid-way through my second martini as I related this story to a friend of
mine, award-winning film editor, Neil Travis.“Can you believe that (expletive) is making me put in that (expletive) insert?" I all but screeched.“Can you imagine how he’d cut the
scene of Scarlett’s return to Twelve Oaks?!” (This last Gone With The Wind reference being a classic example of revelation
through the eyes of a principal---The audience does not see the devastation of
this beautiful plantation until after Scarlett O’Hara. The viewer therefore
emphatically shares her horror instead of seeing it first and waiting to see
how she will react. One way involves the audience directly; the other keeps
them outside of the emotional plane of the characters.)

“Barney, don’t you get it?” My
film editor-pal said very calmly. “Haven’t you ever taken your kids to a
children’s theatrical production?”

“The villain comes on the stage. He approaches
the apron and talks to the audience:‘Heh, heh, heh, I have the magic lighter and I'm going to hide it where innocent little Kate will never find it. Heh, heh, heh...I think i'll put it in this tree branch...she'll never look there'"

Neil had done a pretty fair
imitation of a caped and mustachioed Alan Mowbray in The Villain Still Pursued Her. His voice then changed to a
falsetto, indicating the entrance on stage of the heroine:

“‘Oh where, oh where will I ever…
ever… find the magic lighter? It is the only way I can possibly save my family
honor...’

‘It’s in the tree! It’s in the
tree!’ shouts every kid in the audience. They jump up and down in their seats,
the leading lady acts as if she can’t hear. ‘It’s in the tree!’ they scream
again.”

I got it. I don’t like it as much as theatre for grownups,
but it certainly is a legitimate form, and who is to argue with Aaron Spelling’s
obvious grasp of just what it was America wanted for its television
entertainment? And, lest it be forgotten, there is no question that more people
saw the eleven episodes of Charlie’s
Angels I made for Spelling and Goldberg than would view an entire two
season’s work of mine on Cagney &
Lacey.

Neil was right. I thank him for that lesson, for Geoff Roland and for so much

2 comments:

As a writer (more your style than Aaron's by the way), this was an entertaining story that hit exactly on what Aaron did well. But yeah, I agree with you, we need 'drama' too now and then (thank you, and TPTB, for C&L)!